


If You Ask Nicely

by relinquish_one_bullet



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-25 10:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relinquish_one_bullet/pseuds/relinquish_one_bullet
Summary: Well this was going to be a one-shot and then a three-shot but Anissa didn’t keep me in line so here we are. Fuck me.Read: Just an excuse for smut tbh. Kind of cheesy. I’m not even sorry.





	1. Part One

Something wasn’t right. 

Gwendolyn paced by the window for a moment, peering out at the dusk. Outside, animals scurried past, unaware of her presence or of the house at all, shrouded in a complicated spell that had taken nearly two days to finish. 

The meadow outside was pristine though and she doubted herself momentarily. Perhaps she was still rattled from having to deal with a couple of witch hunters in the marketplace a few days ago. They hadn’t even said anything, not really, but their kind kept her on edge nonetheless. Still…she glanced at the empty nest in the corner, a mess of rags and leaves and long, slender hay matted down. 

“Where are you, Liam?” She whispered the words out loud, sinking down into a chair at the table, her thoughts elsewhere

Her eyes fell to the basket above the nest this time, filled with fruits, a doll, a few letters addressed to Ixuna, the local goddess. The villagers nearby had created the persona after she’d anonymously helped them in little ways: healing their animals, encouraging their crops to grow. 

They clung to the idea that someone was looking out for them. And, for all intents and purposes, she supposed she was. Every once and a while she would venture to the shrines they created for her, in the dead of night, picking through the offerings and letters, listening for the imprints of their prayers. Sometimes, in his own way, Liam would help as well. Lately, she’d discouraged it. 

A bang on the door jolted her from her thoughts, her knees slamming into the table in surprise. She couldn’t even be sure that was what she heard; perhaps instead a bird had unknowingly flown into the door, it had happened once before. 

But the banging continued and she realized there was someone there, someone who had seen through her magic. A sliver of ice was growing in her spine as she stood, unsure what to expect, even more unsure what to do. 

Her hand touched the knob, a momentary pause, and then she yanked the door open, staring stupidly at the man in front of her. Their eyes met for a moment, his bright and golden and hers, pale green. 

“Geralt?” 

Her disbelief was shattered a moment later as Geralt turned, a small creature clinging to his back. She recognized the wild, green hair and dark, unnatural skin immediately. 

“Liam!” 

The godling made a motion like he heard her but didn’t move, his eyes closed. Gwendolyn stepped aside so that the witcher could make his way into the room and he gently dropped the godling onto the small nest in the corner. 

“Got jumped by a couple of them soldiers with the pointy hats.” Liam cradled himself and rocked, “They was after me head.” 

She immediately went to the wall, grabbing various bottles and jars and returning to a bowl at the table. She mixed viciously, pouring in ingredients by sight rather than spending the time to measure them out. 

“They poked me with a mean metal stick.” Liam whimpered, lifting his shirt to show the wound, “And then Geralt of Rivia showed up and saved me.” 

The witcher stayed kneeling by the godlings side, watching him carefully. Gwendolyn poured in a bottle of something thick and black, muttering a spell under her breath and then transferring what turned into a dark green sludge into a mug. 

“Drink this.” She was by his side again in an instant

“Looks like veggies.” Liam complained, turning up his nose

“We don’t have time to argue, they’ve hit you with a poisoned spear.” She pressed lightly against the wound on his side, covered only by the rags he wore as clothes, and it pulsed hot against her fingertips

“Please Liam.” She tried again, “For me.” 

The godling fixed his giant green eyes on her and sighed, taking the mug and holding his nose to drink the concoction in one go. He grimaced, making a terrible face, and then handed her the mug back. 

“Tastes like veggies too.” He whined

It took only moments for the sludge to take effect. His eyes drooped dramatically and then finally closed as he curled up tighter on his nest, sighing. She dropped the mug into a basin to clean later as the witcher stood. 

“What happened?” She turned on him, her voice more venomous than she intended

He didn’t seem to mind nor notice, merely gazed at her intently for a moment and then leaned back against the wall beside Liam, casually crossing his arms over his chest. 

“They caught him playing with a group of school children at the fork in the road. Ran the kids off and circled him.” Geralt explained quietly

“That’s only a mile away, he should have…”

“He said he was afraid to bring them here. Afraid they’d find you.” 

She pressed her forehead against the wall, a lump rising in her throat. Liam had always been abundantly kind, if not impish and wild. She often forgot he was a godling, sometimes lapsing into the disbelief he was her own little brother. 

“You saved him?” She asked, finally pulling herself away from the wall

“He didn’t do anything wrong.” Geralt conceded

She took a moment, now that things were calm, to glance over at the stranger, for that’s what he was now. What had it been, 5 years, since she’d last seen him? Still, he looked exactly the same. 

“You’ve grown up a great deal, Gwen.” 

That was all it took, a small acknowledgement that they’d known each other once. Her stomach tightened at the memories, so long ago. She faced him fully, tracing over the familiar planes of his face, his hair, the white stubble on his cheeks. 

“It’s been a long time, Geralt.” 

She took a step forward, gently wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her there a moment and she allowed a blink of inexcusable relief to wash over her, for the tightness in her shoulder blades to dissipate before she pulled away.

“You’re hurt.” Her eyes traveled down to a small hole in his jacket, stained with dried blood

“It’s nothing.” He began but she wasn’t listening, forcing him to sit in a chair at the table

She unbuttoned the top few buttons of his collar and pulled it away far enough to see the wound herself. He was right, it was merely a scratch, but she rubbed her thumb across it nonetheless, healing it away with magic. He looked as though he was going to say something, his lips turning ever so slightly to smirk at her from below. 

“What’s a witcher doing this far out in the middle of nowhere?” She broke the tension, glancing away

“Got a contract.” 

“From the village?”

“No…they seem to think they’re taken care of.” His eyes glittered mischievously, “They say they owe it all to the goddess, Ixuna.” 

She rolled her eyes, withdrawing her hand from his shoulder too sharply and then going to clean the mug and bowl she’d used earlier. 

“Your response tells me I’m correct.” He teased, “You’re Ixuna.” 

“It’s merely a folk story.” She shrugged in return

“You seem real enough.” He replied, “She fixes their crops and farm animals, turns coal into gold, saves the sick and dying, creates…”

“I _know_ the stories.” 

“But they’ve never seen you?” He asked, “I’ve seen the shrines, the statues don’t nearly do you justice.” 

“Safer that way.” She blushed at the compliment but managed to roll her eyes all the same, “It’s not safe to be different, not anymore. You saw that today.” 

Her gaze landed on Liam’s sleeping form, curled up tightly. She grabbed a small shawl from the back of one of the chairs and wrapped it gently around him, tucking in the edges to keep out the cold.

“What’s the story with you two?” Geralt buttoned his shirt back with one hand, leaning more comfortably in his chair now that the attention was on her so completely 

“It’s a long story…” She glanced at Liam one last time and then back at Geralt but his curious expression didn’t waver so she sighed, grabbing a bottle of wine from a top shelf and sliding it onto the table with a pair of glasses

He accepted his when she poured a heavy tip into the glass, sipping it noiselessly as he watched her just above the brim. His gaze made her uncomfortable in some ways, made her feel like she was being unraveled by something she couldn’t quite see or touch. 

“Liam found me, actually.” She took a gulp of wine, letting it settle into her belly before continuing, “I’d been running, I don’t know how long. Soldiers were after me, everything was in disarray. I’d been wounded, beaten down, I had nowhere to go.” 

She paused, taking another sip. The witcher didn’t move, his bright eyes transfixed on her. Was she merely interesting? Or did he think her prey? Even he didn’t seem to be sure. 

“I stumbled into this forest in the middle of the night, looking for somewhere to hide. I was young, naïve, didn’t even dress the wound on my shoulder. I managed to make it this far, to this clearing, and collapsed. I don’t know how much blood I lost but if it wasn’t for Liam I’m certain I’d be dead.” She shrugged, “He had a burrow near here, heard me flailing through the branches and came out to investigate. When he found me, he stayed beside me all night to protect me. In the morning, he brought me water and a clump of wildflowers he’d picked. Said they were pretty and made him think of me.” 

She smiled very lightly at the memory, at the sweet boy who was in all likelihood a hundred years her elder. Geralt’s expression changed very slightly, momentarily, before becoming stoic again. 

“When no one followed, I decided to stay. Liam helped me build this home and I concealed it with magic. Worked exceptionally well until you came along.” She raised an eyebrow, finishing off her small glass of wine 

“Would’ve worked well on anyone.” Geralt shrugged, “Technically I cheated.” 

He brought the Eye of Nehaleni out of his pocket and laid it on the table. He traced over the tiny features, a maze within a maze, and felt the power inside it. She pushed it lightly back across the table. 

That’s when she noticed the bracelet, just barely hidden beneath part of his sleeve. She reached across the table to grab his wrist, pulling it closer to inspect the glowing, barely shaped metal. One of her very first projects.

“You kept this?”

“Of course.” 

He didn’t expand, just glanced up at her curious expression and kept his wrist in her fingers grasp. She could feel his pulse, slow, steady as it had always been. Finally he sighed, looking down at the dimly glowing bracelet

“It’s helped me a great deal.” He mumbled through an excuse, “It helps to keep my stamina balanced.” 

She blushed, though she didn’t immediately recognize why. It felt strange to have him here. Admittedly, she’d only seen and talked to him a handful of times and yet he had a strange way of making every conversation seem important. Perhaps because he ignored so many of the other students at Rissberg, had singled her out among them all for help on a contract. Or maybe because when he talked to her, much like he did tonight, he seemed to focus so intently and completely on her. 

“It’s getting late.” She let go of his wrist and nodded towards the window at the blackening sky, “I have an extra room you’re welcome to.” 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” He began but she brushed the thought away with a wave of her hand, standing and brushing that same hand against Liam’s forehead

“It’s not an intrusion at all.” She stated, “Follow me.” 

She led the way up a winding set of stairs to the second floor, two rooms set apart. She opened the door to the right, stepping inside and muttering a spell to get rid of the dust. Truth be told, she didn’t have any visitors and Liam refused to sleep on a bed (or in a bedroom for that matter). Still, she kept it clean and tidy all the same. 

“If there’s anything you need…” She began as Geralt stepped in behind her, surveying the room

“I won’t bother you further, thank you.” 

She nodded and stepped back through the doorway. She made her way back downstairs, clearing off the table and organizing a few herbs to keep her hands busy. A nervousness seemed to permeate the home now that a stranger resided in it. She felt a need to stay busy, to keep moving, though her motions soon became repetitive and dumb and she gave up. 

She checked on Liam one last time and then made her way back upstairs to her room. The guest room door remained opened a crack and she glanced inside, pausing only momentarily. Geralt had his back to her, shirtless and meditating. Her eyes naturally traced over the scars, the stories untold, and then she retreated to her own room and closed the door behind her. 

That night, lying alone in bed, staring at the ceiling until she finally tumbled into unconsciousness, she dreamt of their first meeting many years ago. 

_The strangers eyes met hers in the relative dark and she was surprised to see they glowed, wolves eyes on a mans head. She abandoned her project momentarily, staying behind the table to create a barrier between them and raised an eyebrow._

_“Can I help you?”_

_She wondered if he was there on an errand, sent to fetch her for studies she wasn’t interested in. Creating weapons and engineered creatures of war to do your bidding was all well and good for some of the other students. She preferred to hone her skills in more practical avenues._

_The dying bird on the table twitched lightly and her eyes moved down to it once more. She raised her hands above it, weaving magic. Twists of barely silver-blue light traveled from her fingertips, wrapping around the bird in rings._

_“You’re a student here?” His voice was deeper than she imagined it would be_

_“I am.”_

_“I didn’t realize they allowed students to come into town unaccompanied by a mentor.”_

_At this she faltered, the glowing rings diminishing and then disappearing altogether. She scowled, healing the bird instantly with ordinary magic, a jagged scar left behind across it’s chest. It startled back and took into the air before she could catch it. The young student crossed her arms and watched it fly through the doorway, taking off into the night sky._

_“So…are you here to drag me back or just to ruin my experiments?” She turned to the witcher with a frown_

_“Neither.” He held his hands up in response, “I’m actually looking for someone to help me with a contract.”_

_“I’m not allowed to leave the college…except to visit this town and help with the merchants.” She added quickly and disbelievingly_

_“Wouldn’t need you to leave.” He replied with a shrug, “I need any information you can give me.”_

_At this she cocked her head. She was neither particularly special, nor well versed in the creatures that made their home far from the college. Even here, the most freedom she was granted (and admittedly a freedom she frequently had to steal), she heard only stories of the outside world._

_“You must be doing something you’re not supposed to.” She inquired, raising an eyebrow_

_“Then I guess we have something in common.”_

_The smirk that accompanied his statement convinced her to do his bidding. She motioned for him to follow and then walked with him through the streets of the town; usually crowded with merchants and their overflowing goods but empty and quiet in the dead of night._

_He explained his contract as they walked, a bruxa with a rare penchant for wiping out tiny villages to the west of the school. She’d heard the rumors, merchants were little better than a gossiping womans circle, but was unsure where her help might come into play._

_“I leave in two nights to find its lair.” He explained, “I’m low on supplies and none of the merchants here have what I need to make the usual bombs. Any ideas?”_

_She stopped in the middle of the road, her hand naturally rising to rest on her hip as she surveyed him. Had he asked the mentors? Or anyone else at the college? There were people there who spent their whole lives studying dangerous and mythical creatures._

_“You realize this isn’t my specialty, right?” She asked slowly_

_“Yes.”_

_“And yet you’re still asking me for help? Instead of any more qualified students?”_

_“I need someone discrete.” He explained, “And you look like the type that could value discretion.”_

_“Hmm.”_

_She didn’t believe him, not completely, but the chance of trying something new in what was otherwise a monotonous week was enough to keep her going. She began walking again and he stayed a step behind, perhaps trying to read her intentions. They neared the end of the road and she turned left onto a small side street, stepping into the doorway of what appeared to be a boarded up shop. She knocked twice and a slit appeared near her thigh._

_“Gwen?”_

_“Martin.”_

_“Haven’t seen you in a while.” The door opened and a young-looking dwarf waddled out_

_“Been busy. Any rare stock in yet?” She asked_

_“I’ve got a few things. Who’s your friend?” The dwarf eyed the witcher suspiciously_

_“No one.”_

_She stepped into the shop past him and the dwarf allowed the witcher to follow, though he conspicuously held onto the edge of a dagger all the same. Inside was a hoarders paradise of unlabeled bottles, boxes overturned and empty, skulls of various creatures she couldn’t name and strange contraptions that glowed in the dark. She walked to the back wall, skimming over some of the ingredients._

_“I need…this.” She grabbed a large bottle of some kind of black liquid, “And…this.”_

_The next was a jar of powder. She put them both into a bag and turned towards the dwarf with a raised eyebrow._

_“That make us even?”_

_“Aye, I can agree to that.” The dwarf nodded_

_“Thanks.” She turned towards the door, “See you later, Martin.”_

_The witcher didn’t say a word but a curious expression crossed his face nonetheless. She walked back to her tiny hovel, set aside in a dark alley and then concealed in entirety with magic. She pulled out a small metal container and then began measuring out exact quantities of her newest ingredients as well as a few she fished from under the table._

_“Do they know you come here?” The witcher leaned casually against the wall and watched her work_

_“No.”_

_“You don’t have labs in the college?” He continued to pry_

_“We do.” She answered_

_“Then why come here?”_

_“I like have my own space.” She shrugged, “The labs are hoarded over by students who make weapons for the war. That doesn’t interest me.”_

_“Yet you’re making a weapon for me now.”_

_“Not quite.” She held up the finished bombs and handed them over carefully_

_“If you can hit her with it, it’ll dye the bruxa, deep below the skin.” The witcher took the bombs as she explained, “Won’t be invisible anymore.”_

_“Interesting.”_

_He stowed them carefully as she cleaned up the table and put away the supplies she’d used. It was getting late, later than she planned. She would have to hurry back before the next shift of guards roamed the halls inside the college._

_“What do I owe you?” The witcher asked as she walked them both out to the edge of a sewer system: the only way in and out of the college unseen_

_“Keep my secret.” She retorted with a grin, flipping her hood up and stepping into the sewer to get home_

_She didn’t expect to hear from him again, though the momentary distraction had been appreciated nonetheless. Then, a few days later, a caged bird very much like the one she’d lost showed up in her bedroom. That night she took it into the city, stealing away to her hovel to practice. She cured it of disease, fixed a fractured wing with more precision than ordinary magic could._

_“What is it that interests you that you can’t practice at the college?”_

_His voice made her flinch in surprise but she didn’t look up this time from the bird, continuing her spells._

_“Healing, mostly.” She replied, “My fellow students work to destroy things and I work to build them back up.”_

_“Need a human volunteer?”_

_At this, she paused, glancing up at his dim shadow in the doorway. She hadn’t noticed the wounds before but she could smell the blood now, copper and always strange to her. He hung onto the edge of the doorway to keep standing and she let the newly healed bird go, clearing off the table with a swipe of her arm._

_“The bruxa?”_

_He laid down on the table with a grunt, nodding. She opened his tunic and pulled out his arm, completely covered and saturated with blood. It seemed to be the only real damage, his chest was clear and healthy despite a splattering of deep scars. She washed his arm and wiped away what blood she could before beginning her healing spells._

_“Hmm feels cold.” He closed his eyes as swirling silvery rings encased his arm_

_It was more difficult than with the bird; she’d healed tens of birds, and frogs, rats, dogs. Humans were much more complex, so many things could go wrong. She healed herself on occasion, self-induced cuts in the beginning just to see if she could, but Rissberg was safe, relatively speaking, and the college boasted a hospital for students. Her hands trembled slightly._

_“Do you have a name?” She asked, more for a distraction for herself than to talk_

_“Geralt.” He replied, keeping his eyes closed_

_“Well, Geralt, tell me if this hurts at all.” She replied, intensifying the rings_

_The cuts on his arm seemed to sew together, leaving behind only a light pink scar that would eventually dissipate into fresh, clear skin. She probed deeper, to the muscles below, the bones. Finally, she pulled the rings larger, encircling his entire body._

_He sighed, relaxed, and then the rings slowly disintegrated in front of her eyes. He blinked slowly, once, twice, like he was waking up for some sort of stupor._

_“You ok?” She whispered_

_He slowly sat up, testing his arm and moving it back and forth. The muscles moved in sync, flexing when he pulled his fingers back. He seemed satisfied, swinging his legs over the side of the table to stand up._

_“Thank you.”_

_He pulled his tunic back on, readjusting bags and swords as he went. Finally, he walked back towards the doorway. She followed behind, eyes tracing over his back._

_“The bombs worked well by the way.” He stated, turning at the door, “The bruxa is dead. I owe you one.”_

_“Don’t mention it.” She shrugged, “Glad I could help.”_

_He nodded and turned to leave. She caught his sleeve like a reflex, unsure why she was suddenly interested in him staying. He paused, meeting her gaze before she dropped hers to the floor in front of them._

_“I…will I ever see you again?” She looked up at him once more and he gave her half a smile_

_“You can count on it.”_


	2. Part Two

She stayed lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling as light trickled through the window. The dream was fresh in her mind and she smiled lightly at how different they both had been. 

At first she’d been worried he wouldn’t actually come back but he hadn’t lied. Sometimes they went weeks without contact, other times months, but when a contract dragged him close enough he always stopped by and she helped him to the best of her abilities. Until she’d left, he was the only constant thing in her life. 

When the sun was high enough and her room was too bright to feign sleeping, she escaped from the warmth of her bed to the hallway. The guest room door was wide open, the bed made and the room exactly as she’d left it before Geralt visited. She figured witchers weren’t much for overstaying their welcome and made her way downstairs, surprised to see Geralt at the table with Liam. 

“Feet on the floor, please.” She muttered, dragging a hand through her long, dark hair as the godling jumped from the table to the floor 

He flinched slightly at the landing, holding onto his side a moment with a screwed up face, and then going back to bouncing, invading the witchers space without a care. 

“Oh I know the way, that’s _easy._ ”

“What’s easy?” She stretched, pouring water from a jug into three small mugs

“Payment for the witcher saving me.” Liam bounced on his heels again 

“Payment?” She glanced back 

Liam closed his mouth and looked expectantly at Geralt, as though he’d already said something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Liam offered to show me the way through a cave system nearby.” He explained quietly, “To help with my contract.” 

“When?” She frowned

“Tonight!” Liam bounded forward, grabbing a mug from her hand and sloshing water onto the floor

“Absolutely not.” She turned on Geralt, “He’s _hurt_.”

“He offered.” Geralt replied weakly, raising his hands in surrender 

“We owes him.” Liam replied, setting the mug precariously on the edge of the table and crossing his arms across his chest in defiance 

“I tried to tell him he didn’t owe me a thing.” Geralt was quick to add

“Don’t bother.” She sighed, “Liam has an intrinsic sense of honor and morality, even if he doesn’t show it in a particularly tactful way.” 

Liam stuck his tongue out at her and she nudged him with her toe, sitting down in the empty seat across from Geralt and handing him a mug of water. 

“What’s right is right, I ain’t no bore.” Liam replied, grabbing onto his side a bit more dramatically now that the adrenaline was wearing off 

“I know, Liam.” She sighed

“He needs a guide through the misty cave and I know the way…” 

“So do I.” She interrupted, raising an eyebrow 

Liam’s mouth snapped shut into a frown and he went back to crossing his arms. Emotions flowed so easily from him, unchecked. She turned back to Geralt, eyeing him carefully. 

“What do you expect to find in the cave?”

“I’m not sure. I want to scout it out, see if there are any clues as to what’s been killing the hunters in that area.”

“Very well.” She sighed, “I’ll be your guide, in return for saving Liam’s life.” 

“Hey, s’not _your_ burden.” Liam pulled on the edge of her dress with a whine

“You’re still healing.” She retorted, ending the conversation with a curt shake of her head, “When would you like to leave?”

“Would rather be there when the sun’s out, if that’s possible.” Geralt replied, ignoring Liam’s tantrum

Gwen glanced out the window, at the already darkening skies even for such an early hour. A storm was coming. Still, a debt was a debt and on this, she agreed fully with Liam. 

“We should leave soon then. Rain’s coming.” 

She drank the rest of her water, ignoring Liam’s sulking, and grabbing a piece of jerky hanging in the corner of the room. Then she was back upstairs, stepping into a more outdoor-friendly outfit. Black pants, a deep red blouse, a tight corset between. She put on a pair of hiking boots and tied her hair back lightly. Finally, over everything, she donned a black cape with a deep hood. 

Liam was still pouting, in his corner now, his back turned to the room as he rubbed his still healing side and a knot on the back of his head. Geralt hadn’t moved from his place at the table though she noticed his eyes flickering to the small godling every once and a while. 

“You don’t have to do this.” His voice was low as he caught her wrist, holding her in place momentarily

“I know.”

She pulled out of his grasp and grabbed a small backpack, filling it with water and food for the journey. Geralt shrugged slightly after that and stood with her, pulling his swords onto his back. She grabbed her bow and arrow, the only weapon she’d ever been proficient at, and then turned to Liam in the doorway. 

“Do not follow.” To which Liam stuck out his tongue and moped 

“Liam.” She sighed and took a few steps back into the house 

“S’not your burden.” He muttered

“It’s because I care about you.” She replied, “ _That’s_ my burden.”

At this he perked very slightly, giving her a small, embarrassed smile, and then shoved his head back into his bedding with a dramatic sigh. She rolled her eyes and led the way out the door, flipping her hood up in the process.

“It’s not far. I’ll teleport us part of the way and then it’s about three miles to the south of that.”

She opened a portal, allowing them both to step through simultaneously. She knew the general area of the cave but it had been a long time since she’s ventured this far south. Still, some of the markers were familiar and she was able to teleport fairly close. Geralt fell in line beside her silently and they walked towards the edge of the trees in the clearing they’d landed in. 

“You know the area well?” He asked after a moment

“Of course.”

“I didn’t realize sorceresses spent much time exploring dangerous forests on their own.” He replied, a friendly, albeit curious, jab

She merely laughed, glancing over at him with an amused expression. His eyes traced over her smile and then met her gaze one more. 

“Perhaps the boring ones don’t but my particular…hobbies, have me out and about very frequently.” She shrugged

“You mean being Ixuna?” He was teasing her again 

“Like the White Wolf? The Butcher of Blaviken?” She teased right back

He groaned, ignoring the comment and continuing to walk. They followed a worn pathway for a while and then she veered away to the left and took him along a small river. When it finally tightened down into what could only really be called a creek, she went to cross it. Geralt grabbed her hand on the other side, pulling her out of the low water and onto the embankment. 

“Let’s take a break, we’ve been walking a while.” Geralt suggested

“I hope you’re not slowing your pace on account of me.”

He grinned in response but sat down on a tree stump nearby nonetheless. She joined him on the adjacent stump, stretching out her legs and reaching into her pack for some water. 

“I’m surprised to see a sorceress out here alone.” He commented after a moment of silence

“You mean you’re surprised I’m not taking part in some political struggle like so many of my colleagues?” She clarified, offering him some water, “Perhaps I could be whispering in a kings ear? Trying to take over a small city-state?”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.” 

“I was trained in Rissberg, you know that. There’s less political pressure there, more freedom to do what you wish. Many of my fellow students were interested in war, that’s true, but they were interested in the experimentation behind it. I wanted to explore, to learn. At first I studied healing magic because I thought I might make a difference that way. Then I studied ancient magic, far forgotten in many reaches of the world. When I first got here, I sought to study some of the oldest magic in the world.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Freedom was…difficult. Rissberg might have felt like a cage, but it protected as much as it restrained. The only dealing’s I’d had with people outside the city were merchants and you. Out in the rest of the world, I had to hide what I was. It was a steep learning curve.”

“You never told me why those soldiers pursued you here.”

“No, I didn’t.” She laughed, letting her hood fall away and fixing a few piece of hair that fell around her face in wavy curls, “Perhaps another time, we still have a ways to hike.”

He looked like he was going to say more but she stood, brushing herself off and putting the pack on again with her bow. They began walking again, along the opposite side of the creek. 

“I apologize, I haven’t been to this cave in years. If I had, I would have just teleported us there.”

“No need to apologize, it hasn’t been an unpleasant hike.” He replied easily

She felt the back of her neck burn in embarrassment but she merely pulled her hood up over her head as the first raindrops began to fall. Geralt apparently felt no need to cover himself, merely walking in line with her again. 

“Tell me one thing.” He pushed, forever curious, “Did you ever find the ancient magic you were looking for?”

“Yes and no.” She shrugged, “I know where to look for the book, know sort of what I’ll find, but it’s too dangerous.” 

He didn’t add comment, just walked beside her in silence once more. The rain let up momentarily and she glanced over at him. He was rolling up his sleeves, halfway, and she noticed the bracelet faintly glowing on his wrist again.

“I’m surprised you kept that thing.” She nodded to it, “My first real magical object…I know there are stronger charms out there, it was never really my strong suit…”

“You made it, Gwen.” He said quietly, not looking at her, “Of course I kept it.”

The words cemented her in place, a rock rising in her throat. He stopped as well, glancing back at her. 

“I should have told you I was leaving. Where I was going.” She whispered

“I’m not angry with you, if that’s what you think.” He replied

“I’m angry with myself.” 

“Don’t be.” He shook his head

“It’s been almost five years, Geralt.” She chastised, “And it’s entirely my fault.” 

He took a step forward, his mouth forming a frown easily. She thought for a moment he might hug her and she felt strange for wanting him to. Still, she couldn’t come up with an excuse for not telling him, she didn’t have one. One day she was at Rissberg and the next she was gone, tired of the rules and sneaking around and being looked down upon. 

And then after that…well, she had spent a couple of years travelling, never staying in one spot. And once she’d found this place with Liam…it just made sense to keep quiet, stay put, hide. Still, she kicked herself for abandoning her friend and the guilt often weighed heavy on her. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad we happened into each other again.” She forced the overly intimate words out, “And I hope this isn’t the last time I see you.” 

“It won’t be.” His words were far more confident than her own 

They were silent the rest of the way after that until they reached what appeared to be a wide meadow. She stopped in the middle, turning towards an ancient, enormous tree and pointing to the roots. 

“The cave’s under the tree?” Geralt asked, taking a few steps closer

“Yes.”

He peered below into darkness and then glanced back at her. She felt uneasy, like something deep below was unsettled and wild, waiting for them to fall into its trap. 

“You’ve taken me this far, any debt you think you owe…” He began but she shook her head in response 

“I promised to take you through the cave and I will.” She stated, “Help me down.”

He sighed but grabbed her hand, holding her arm taut as she took the first few steps into darkness. The rocks were slippery, wet, but she found her footing and slipped her hand from his a moment later. Inside, she cast a spell for light, peering into the dark crevices of the cave. 

“See anything?” Geralt was beside her, following the light she cast

“Not yet.” She took a few steps forward but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back 

“Stay behind me, please.”

She naturally thought to fight him, insisting she could take care of herself, but he was already moving forward and honestly she wasn’t the least bit mad about not having to trek into the darkness alone. They followed along an old passageway, lined with roots and clumps of old dirt, heading towards the main chamber. 

She suddenly felt ill at ease and paused, glancing behind her. Geralt seemed to sense it and glanced back, waiting for her to fall in line behind him again. She touched the edge of the cave wall, trying to feel for danger, for anything. 

“If we make it through this, I propose we finish off a bottle of Beauclair White I’ve had sitting around for ages.” She muttered nervously

Geralt’s eyes softened very slightly and he reached out to gently squeeze her elbow. She felt better for a moment, watching him take the lead again, but the darkness around them was heavy and she knew something wasn’t right. 

After what felt like a lifetime, they finally entered into the main chamber of the cave. Here, rain fell through cracks in the ceiling and trees seemed to grow in various strange angles, reaching for the sunlight that no doubt came through those same cracks. 

“Something’s wrong.” She breathed the words and Geralt stopped moving

“Magic?” He asked and she probed out with her mind, trying to feel it

“I…don’t know.”

He took a few steps forward and then paused again, listening. She was certain her own heartbeat probably obscured much of whatever else there was to hear. She took a few steps after him and then paused as he held up his hand, a motion to stay in place.

“Shit.”

He turned suddenly and barreled into her, slamming them both onto the ground. The wind left her lungs in a whoosh and she barely had time to realize he’d saved her from whatever creature had jumped out from behind her. 

“Leshen.”

The words hardly made it past his lips when he was lifted from her, tossed like a rag doll to the other side of the cave by a tentacle-like arm of roots. Above her, the monster loomed, holding her in her spot. 

With a skull for a head, it made soft, grating, breathing noises she’d never heard before. She backed away, pressing herself against the closest cave wall as it closed it. Already roots were beginning to rise around her, cocooning her in a deadly cage. 

“ _Aenye!_ ” She smashed her hands out to the side and fire erupted in a ring around her 

The roots rescinded quickly and the monster gave a shriek, turning into a burst of ravens. Geralt was finally on his feet again, drawing a silver sword and facing the monster as it materialized on the other side of the cave. 

Gwendolyn was moving immediately, finding her mind and grabbing her bow to fire flaming arrows at the beast. She’d never seen a leshen, much less fought one, but fire seemed to make it pause long enough for Geralt to get in a god hit. 

There was a moment when she thought it was nearly over. The monster seemed drained and time seemed to slow. She could feel sweat pooling at the back of her neck, could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. But then Geralt was on the ground and a root was sticking through his shoulder. The creature transformed into birds again and she slid to his side, terrified.

“Geralt?” She pressed her hand against the wound as the root pulled back into the ground, willing it to heal 

More roots struck through the ground, some going through him, others slicing against her arm and cheek. It was hopeless. The roots pulled back again and Geralt was covered in blood, his eyes closed. 

The monster rematerialized nearby and began walking towards them, dead eyes staring at her. There was a moment of utmost clarity when the world seemed to stop. She saw Geralt, eyes closed and blood trickling past his lips; she felt her own pulse, surprisingly slow but choking her; she saw the leshen, arms outstretched. So she did the only thing she could think of. She opened a portal and pulled him inside. 

Landing hard on the ground in the safety of her home was a comfort she wasn’t nearly prepared for. A few roots made the journey with them but they twitched and died as the portal closed shut with a hiss, turning to ash and rising in the air. She sobbed in a breath, horrified to see the amount of blood pooling around Geralt’s lifeless form. 

“Geralt?” She breathed his name again, heaving herself over to him and pressing her hands against his chest, “No, no, no…”

“Liam!” She didn’t realize how lond she’d screamed until the godling came crashing into the room, eyes wide and terrified 

“H-help me…p-please help.” She was dragging Geralt’s shirt away, pulling at it viciously to get to the wounds underneath

“I told you I should have gone!” Liam began darting around the room, collecting herbs and tools, “I told you!” 

She ignored him, finally getting the straps and shirt and swords away and accessing the damage. There was so much blood, too much to handle. Liam brought her a towel and she wiped some of it away, whispering incantations through her tears. The wounds began to heal, slowly, but they were so, so deep. She fished in his bag, for the potions she knew all witchers carried. 

“Drink.” She commanded his lifeless body to consume the potion

He coughed some of it up, his eyes fluttering momentarily, before they shut again. She grabbed the ingredients Liam had brought over, throwing them into a bowl and brutishly pulverizing them into a paste. It took moments before she could smear them over his wounds, her hands shaking. 

What if he didn’t make it? 

No, no, no, he had to. 

_He had to._

Her hands shook until she’d used the entire batch, his chest and arms completely covered. Several of his wounds were still deep, still terrifying to her. One to his shoulder, another slicing near his ribs. And the scars, there were so many of them. It made something deep within her hurt and she wasn’t sure why. 

Finally, _finally_ , the blood stopped. Geralt continued to take short, shallow breaths, unaware of the rest of the world. She levitated his body off the floor, taking him upstairs and into the spare bedroom. She put him in bed, grazing over his wounds once more with the tips of her fingers. 

Thin rings of silver-blue lightly erupted from her fingertips, encircling him. It was natural, so familiar, how many times had she healed him? But this time…he didn’t respond at all. No clever banter, no gentle teasing. He stayed stoic and cold and terrifyingly silent. 

Some of his wounds began to tighten with the help of magic but it was a slow process, draining. She could feel herself faltering, the rings almost buzzing in and out of focus in front of her eyes. A few minutes later and she collapsed in a heap on the floor, the tiny silvery strings of light still trailing from her fingers, albeit barely. 

She couldn’t stop, she had to try, had to keep going. She didn’t realize she was crying until a broken sob rattled her chest. Liam poked his head in and watched her crying for a moment in the doorway. 

“Gwen?” 

She simply sobbed in return, her shoulders shaking. The tiny godling went crashing down the stairs and reappeared moments later, a bunch of wet wildflowers in his hand and water dripping from his hair. 

“I picked these for you.” He put them in her lap, “And I’ll clean the kitchen. I’ll clean up everything.” 

She didn’t respond, couldn’t, her throat felt like it was closing in. He left the room again, scared, and brought her a towel. He pressed it gently against the gash on her arm, lighting her skin up in pain.

“You’re bleeding.” He whispered, his eyes wide, "Gwen you're bleeding." 

When she didn’t respond he dropped the towel and stood in front of her at his full height. He cupped her face in both hands and forced her to look at him, his eyes wide, scared. 

“Please Liam.” She pulled away, “Just leave me alone.” 

The godling sighed but retreated from the room nonetheless. She stayed sitting here a moment longer, a few strands of magic all that kept her connected to Geralt, before she pulled away. It was all she could do. He remained breathing, looked peaceful enough. _It was all she could do._

If she kept repeating it, maybe she’d believe it. 

Without the chaos around her, the real world closed in. Everything hurt, her skin felt like it was on fire. There was blood trickling down her arm, her fingers sticky, but she ignored it. The ringing in her ears finally stopped but was replaced with a constant, heavy, thrumming that pounded behind her eyes. 

She took a shaky breath, brushing more tears away with the back of her arm. She dragged herself out of her cape, her boots, her socks, and left them in a pile beside the bed. Then she pushed herself off the floor, swaying heavily, and careened into the next room over, her own room. 

She touched a statue of a raven on the bedside table, watching a portal open in front of her. One last glance back towards Geralt, towards his sleeping form, and then she pushed herself through.


	3. Part Three

“Gwen!” 

Geralt shot up, drenched in sweat, and immediately regretted the action. His entire body ached, more so than it ever had in recent memory. He glanced down at the damage, at the wounds covered in a thick, green substance that was starting to dry into a hardened cast. His immediate urgency was stifled as he realized where he was. 

He could still feel the magic she’d left, an imprint he’d never mentioned to her. He’d also never mentioned how it felt when she healed him, how his body craved it sometimes when she wasn’t around to help, how the feeling could stick with him for hours after if he stayed very still. 

It felt like tiny cobwebs now, wrapped in perfect circles around his entire body, as light and teasing as a feather. He shifted slightly on the bed and glanced around the room. 

“She brought you back through a portal.” Liam was leaning against the doorway, wringing his hands 

“Is she all right?” His voice sounded more hoarse than usual

The godling shook his head back and forth, slowly, his wide eyes locked onto him. Geralt managed to sit up despite the pain, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Where is she?” 

“In the secret place.” Liam whispered and pointed to her room 

Geralt slowly stood, barely able to keep his balance as pain shot through his body. He managed to push himself forward, clinging to the side of the door and then following the godling into her bedroom. It was empty but Liam touched a statue of a raven and a portal burst to life to his left. 

“I’m not allowed.” Liam cocked his head to the side, “Please help her.” 

He nodded to acknowledge Liam and then took a few stumbling steps forward, crossing over through the portal. He hated portals. 

It took a few moments to get his bearings, to keep his head from throbbing to the point of blindness. He gripped onto a tree in front of him for a moment, breathing heavy, and then tried to listen for her. 

There was water running somewhere in front of him and above that, quieter, the sound of crying. He followed the noise slowly, through sparse trees, and into a meadow barely lit by the moon overhead. Her back was to him, still clothed but sitting in knee deep water all the same. 

The pool was clear, slightly steaming and warm. Gwen had a bottle in her hand, he couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but she took a gulp of it nonetheless and he noticed it was half empty. He took a few steps closer, sighing. 

“Liam, I said…” Her voice carried an odd pitch he’d never heard from her before

“Gwen.” 

He startled her, almost enough for her to drop the bottle. She furiously brushed the tears that were falling away, setting the bottle on the ground behind her and turning her back to him again. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“Checking on you.” He replied as he took a step closer

She turned back to give him a disapproving expression as he flinched, moving forward at a steady, slow pace. 

“You should have stayed in bed.” She mumbled, “You’re hurt.” 

“Would rather know you’re ok.” 

‘I’m fine.” She replied, exasperated 

“Mhm.” 

He slowly sank into the water beside her with a groan and everything in her chest throbbed. It took him a moment of shifting to get into a comfortable position before he finally sighed, leaning back against the shore and closing his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes snapped open to give her a confused expression but she merely looked away. Her insides felt like they were vibrating but she couldn’t hide how relieved she was to hear his voice, to see him here, alive, next to her. 

She couldn’t stop herself, her arms gently wrapped around his neck, barely touching him, her face against the side of his head. The tears were coming quickly, silently, but she didn’t care. He pressed a hand to the back of her head, holding her there a long moment. 

She managed to pull away, putting her trembling hands in front of her to heal him again but he caught them, pressing her fingers down. 

“Don’t.” He whispered, “You’re exhausted. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She pulled her hands out of his own, unsteady, and then stared out at the vast expanse of the pool. She couldn’t remember when she’d found this place, it had been so long ago, but she was thankful it was untouched. She grabbed the wine again, taking another heady gulp, swaying very lightly. When she offered the bottle to him he took it without a word, taking a drink himself. 

“None of this is your fault.” 

“Hah.” She stole the bottle back and laughed bitterly, “I was useless.” 

“You saved my life.” He countered 

“Only because you had to save mine first.” She sighed, “If I hadn’t been there…”

“I’d probably be dead.” 

It hurt. A lot. 

She glanced over at him, tears brimming her bottom lashes. He managed to lean forward slightly, brushing them away with his thumb as they tumbled down to her cheeks. She was drunk, she knew it the moment her face burst into a blush at his touch, but she didn’t care and drank some more. 

When the bottle was empty she conjured another out of thin air and gave him some. They were halfway through that when she paused, sighing and really accessing his injuries again. It was so easy to forget when he was here, talking, breathing. But she knew it was at least partially an act for her own sake and she hated he had to do that for her. 

“You should really rest.” 

“I thought I was resting.” He was leaning against the shore, his eyes closed again 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I’ll go back when you go back.” He retorted

“Fine.” 

With that she stood, offering him a hand. He took it graciously and she helped him stand, letting him wrap an arm around her shoulders for balance. He still smelled of blood, sweat, pain. She could almost feel it reverberating off him and back into her, rattling her ribs like a wood chime. 

She opened the portal and pulled them both across, back into her own room. Slowly, carefully, they made their way back to the guest room and she gently laid him back in bed, scanning over his injuries and the half washed off poultice. 

“I’ll be back, stay here.” 

“Hmm.”

His eyes closed again and she turned to make her way downstairs. Liam was asleep, curled up on his nest and lightly snoring so she quietly mixed a new poultice, not nearly as frenzied as last time. Her arm throbbed again, an injury she continued to ignore. She simply didn’t care. 

When the poultice was ready she headed back upstairs silently, standing in the doorway. He looked peaceful like this, his eyes closed, his body finally relaxed. She wondered vaguely if he was sleeping, if she should wait so as not to bother him. 

“I’m awake.” His voice startled her, his eyes opening very slightly to glance towards the doorway

She must have looked confused but when she came closer to the bed he merely smirked and closed his eyes again. Something coiled tight inside her as she sat on the edge of the bed, balancing the bowl in her lap. 

“How’d you know?” She finally asked 

“I can hear your heartbeat.” 

She was glad his eyes were still closed as another blush made its way across her face. She dipped her fingers into the clay-like poultice and Geralt relaxed again, apparently satisfied with mortifying her. 

“It’s a little cold.” She apologized before smearing the mess over a wound on his chest 

Goosebumps erupted over his skin but he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. She continued across his shoulder, his sternum. He contracted only once as her fingers dipped between his ribs, his upper lip twitching very slightly as he flinched away.

“I uh…I need to…” She couldn’t quite get the words out 

“Go ahead.” 

He didn’t even open his eyes as she floundered, unsure. It felt like he was testing her, teasing her, or maybe he really just didn’t care. She sighed, wiping her fingers on a towel and then unbuttoning the first button and then the second button of his pants to fold them away slightly. 

She followed a prominent vein from his waistband down, disappearing beneath the rest of the cloth, before shaking her head and continuing to smear the poultice onto a gash on his hip. He fidgeted only slightly when she got close to his waistband but didn’t say a word. Finally, when she was satisfied that he was fully covered, she pulled away and wiped off her hands. Half-lidded eyes met hers and she smiled, leaning back slightly.

“Sleep.” She whispered

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Your arm.” He nodded to the gash she’d been ignoring all night and then traced a thumb against the very edge of a cut on her cheek

“I’ll be all right.” 

He gave her an incredulous look and she sighed, dipping her fingers into the last remains of the poultice and smearing it over the cut on her arm. It soothed the burning immediately, the smell making her groggy. He scooped a tiny bit onto his own fingers and wiped them gently against the cut on her cheek.

She smiled lightly, a ghost, and then extinguished the candle beside his bed and plummeted them both into darkness. Faint silvery lines, barely there, like thread, encircled his chest from her fingertips, fading in and out. 

“Gwen.” He chastised her lightly, grabbing her hands to stop the flow of magic 

“Sleep.” This time she said it with a gentle spell, brushing a stray hair from his face

His eyelids finally dropped and he sighed, content, his hand dropping down to her lap. She stayed there a moment too long, putting the bowl on the bedside table, before sinking down onto the floor. 

It was a strange realization, how she’d almost lost two people in as many days. Her heart hurt, her head hurt, the poultice was making her drowsy. She thought about crawling to her room, because that’s what it would have taken at this point to move, but instead she curled up beside the bed and rested her head on the edge. 

Geralt woke first, his head full of cobwebs, his muscles relaxed. A spell, had to be. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly, with no dreams or nightmares. He heard her soft breathing next, saw her curled up against the side of the bed. Her dark hair cascaded in soft, wavy curls all the way down her back and her long eyelashes cast shadows down her cheeks from the sunlight streaming into the room. 

She looked…peaceful. Finally. 

He couldn’t help himself; he reached out and cupped her jaw, rubbing his thumb against her unmarred cheek. Her eyes fluttered once, twice, and then she yawned and pulled out of his grasp. 

“Must have been more tired than I thought.” She shrugged out of the shawl she was sure Liam had left for her sometime during the night and stretched her aching limbs, “How’re you feeling?”

“Much better.”

She wasn’t sure if he was lying for her sake or not but she appreciated it this early in the morning. She stood after a moment, brushing her fingers through her tangled hair and then glanced out the window. Already the sun was rising steadily, it was well past morning. 

“I’m going to make some food. Come down whenever you’re ready.”

She slipped into her room a moment, pulling on a light, grey sundress. The poultice on her arm had hardened and would need to be washed away later but for now it kept her arm from hurting. She wiped the small amount from her face as she washed it, glad to see it was completely healed. 

As promised, Liam had cleaned the kitchen to the best of his abilities (she was already certain it would take her days to find some of the things he’d hidden from sight) and had thankfully gotten rid of the strain of blood in the middle of the floor. He dozed lightly on his nest, his limbs sprawled about. 

“Liam.” She whispered his name, crouching down beside him 

His eyes fluttered and he yawned, still asleep. Still, he reached for her and she pulled him into her arms, hugging him tightly. 

“Thank you.” She breathed the words and he pressed his face closer

“Sorry I sent the witcher to the secret place.” He mumbled, caught somewhere between sleep and waking

“It’s ok.” She set him down in the nest again, “Want breakfast?”

“Yes’m.” He rolled over and stretched, trying to wake up

She went to work taking the inventory of what she had. Eggs, bread, smoked pork hanging to dry, some fruit. It would have to do. She quickly made eggs as Grealt descended the stairs, taking it slow and hanging onto the railing. Already she was amazed by how well he’d mended, despite the severity of his wounds, and she wondered how long it would take for him to fully heal. 

He sat down at the table and she brought him a glass of water as Liam finally began to wake up, crawling over to the chair beside him and resting his head on the table. When the eggs were done, she brought them and the rest of the food to the table and sat down. The three of them ate in relative silence and again she was struck by how she’d almost lost them both.

Gwen stared down at her plate, the half-eaten pomegranate, the eggs she’d swirled around. Being near them, pretending nothing had happened…it made something twist desperately in her stomach. 

Liam announced he had somewhere to be, something about a new muddy watering hole nearby, and he crashed through the front door and took off into the woods, leaving them alone. 

“You all right?”

His voice brought her back and she glanced over, nodding. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on and the caked on poultice looked strange against the rest of his skin. He caught her staring but he neither said anything nor did she stop and he simply went back to eating. 

“We should wash that off soon and reassess your injuries.” She mumbled after a moment

“We?” He was teasing her, glancing up through eyelashes with a grin 

“I…I just…” She stammered and he leaned back to fully appreciate the pressure he’d put on her

She scowled, finally moving her half full plate to a basin to clean later and to keep herself occupied. The playful expression was still on his face when she turned to him again but his eyes softened slightly. 

“Is this the part where we share a bottle of Beauclair White?” He asked innocently

She couldn’t help but grin, through her sheer embarrassment, and a flood of relief cascaded over her. She couldn’t explain it, didn’t care to, but she fished the bottle off the top shelf nonetheless and dangled it in front of him. 

“The last bit of civilization in these parts, I’m afraid.” She shrugged, handing him the bottle

“Hmm.” He glanced down at the bottle and then followed her as she motioned towards the stairs

She walked ahead, filling the tub in the guest room with hot water magically and then pausing to watch the steam rise seductively from the surface. Geralt made it to the doorway, blocking her from escaping by the time she turned around. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded back towards the tub

“Not helping anymore?” He grinned

“Only if you ask nicely.”

His eyes widened very slightly but otherwise he didn’t give away his surprise. Instead, he took a few steps into the room, setting down the bottle of wine and then closing in on her. She didn’t have the time or mental fortitude to move away as he grabbed her elbow, cementing her in place. 

He glanced down at her lips through half-lidded eyes and then back up to meet her gaze again. Gwen felt like she was swimming, drowning, flying? She couldn’t quite place the feeling but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. 

“Please?” His voice was barely a horse whisper and then he leaned down to brush his lips against hers

He pulled away a moment later, scanning over her face. The blush she’d tried so hard to hide so often this afternoon was quick to resurface and she dipped her head away. 

“That nice enough?” His gruff voice held her in place and she rolled her eyes

“Get in the tub.” She nodded to the steaming bath and he grinned, taking his time as she sauntered over 

He set down the bottle of wine on the floor and she worked to open it while he got undressed, sinking into the water with a groan. He sighed, resting his arms on either side and relaxing. 

“Warm enough?” She asked, finally getting the bottle open

“Perfect.”

She dumped a bottle of sweet smelling soap into the water, watching it bubble slightly around him. Then she took a long drink from the bottle of wine and tilted some into his mouth has well. Finally, she settled into a chair beside the tub, dipping a small towel into the water and then dragging it over his shoulder. 

He made a noise, deep in his chest, almost a growl, and settled more comfortably in the tub. She ran the towel over his collarbones, down his chest, up his arms. Then she moved him forward and started on his back until all of the poultice was finally wiped away. 

The skin beneath looked tender but it was miles apart from what it had been the night before. She let him lean back again, taking his hair down and wetting it. She poured part of another bottle into his hair and massaged it into his scalp. 

“Hmm.” He practically melted, “You’re good at this.” 

She grinned in response, though he was unable to see, and continued with deft fingers against the side of his head and then on down his neck. She pressed her thumbs in deep at his shoulders, working out the knots hidden beneath muscle. He groaned in response, his fingers twitching every so slightly. When she pulled away, he let his head hang back and glanced up at her.

“Relax.” She brushed her fingers gently down his jaw, weaving magic as she went

“You’re cheating.’ He mumbled, his eyes closing

“Only a little.” She replied, pulling her fingers against the short hair on the side of his head and then back down his jaw again 

She fished for the bottle of wine beside her, taking a deep gulp and then brushing the bottle against his lips. She poured it slowly, trying to ignore the way his tongue darted out at the last second to catch the remaining drops of liquid on his lips. 

She felt too warm, too exposed. Even here, sitting so close to his completely bare form, her stomach twisted into knots. Geralt seemed to sense it, his eyes opening to trace over her face.

“How’s your arm?” 

She glanced at the dry poultice, cracks running in every direction. She was far more healed than he was, there was no doubt, but a pang of fear ripped through her nonetheless, at what could have happened. 

“I’ll be fine.” She whispered

But he was standing soon after, fighting through the relaxing fog she’s created. She looked away as he stepped into a loincloth and drained the tub with magic until he stood in front of her. She could barely look at him, though her eyes naturally trailed over new wounds still healing, mixing with old scars. 

“I think it’s your turn.” He knelt in front of her, nodding to the tub

If she’d felt warm before, she was on fire now. He nodded to the tub once more, insistent, and she trembled filling it again, staying seated in her chair. Geralt sat on the edge of the tub, glinting eyes tracing over her shoulders, collarbones, neck. Hers narrowed on the tub, full and steaming once more, and then back to his chest, unable to meet his gaze. 

He moved forward, gently brushing her hair to the side, exposing her neck. His brushed momentarily against her jugular, feeling her pounding heartbeat, and then he replaced it with his lips. 

Her gasp was hardly audible but he stayed there a moment too long, counting the beats, and then hooked the strap of her dress around two fingers, pulling it to one side. She closed her eyes as he moved up her neck, soft kisses, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin. 

He bit her ear, more gently than she imagined he would or even could, and then ran a calloused hand over her collarbones and up the back of her neck to twist in her hair. He held here there in front of him a moment, brushing their noses together, and then leaned in to kiss her softly. 

She could feel herself unraveling as his other hand pulled the remaining strap of her dress away, letting it pool around her waist. Goosebumps erupted across her skin but he was quick to lean forward, to cocoon her in his own body heat. 

He sucked on her bottom lip, tracing a rogue hand against her bare ribs, and then pulled away once more. She flushed at the expression on his face, the hunger, his lips slightly parted. Finally, he nodded to the bath, slipping out of her way and pulling her to her feet in one motion.

The dress cascaded down to the ground, baring her completely. He grabbed her hand, helping her into the tub, where she graciously sank beneath the water. He seemed to ponder the bottles beside the tub for a moment before picking one and dumping it into the water. Lavender and bergamot. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised he knew his aromatherapy. 

He grabbed a new rag, dipping it into the water, and then pulled her marred arm out to wash away the poultice. She was surprised, actually, at how gentle he could be. One hand dragged the towel against her arm, gently breaking up the clay-like material, and the other massaged her fingertips, pulling at her knuckles. 

She couldn’t help the satisfied groan that escaped past her lips, nor the blush that rose from the smirk that crossed his own. She closed her eyes in response, willing herself to relax. When the poultice was cleaned away he moved to her other arm, down her back, her neck. He seemed to want to chart every part of her. 

Soon, he abandoned the towel, running his fingers through her hair. He shifted behind her, brushing through her hair as she leaned back against the edge of the tub. It was heaven, to be taken care of like this. She couldn't remember the last time she'd let someone in. 

“I should have never taken you to that cave.” He whispered after a moment, continuing his slow movements despite her eyes opening 

“You couldn’t have known.” She replied

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, “I put you in harms way.”

She stopped him, pulling on his hand until he was back beside the tub, sitting precariously on the edge and staring down at her. 

“Please don’t blame yourself.”

When he didn’t respond, glancing down at the ground to avoid her gaze, she pulled on his hand again and brought him closer. His eyes traced over her lips momentarily and then she was dragging his to hers, kissing him gently. 

It took only a moment to pull him into the tub, water sloshing over the side of the tub as she grinned. His stoic expression broke into surprise and then a grin of his own as he twisted, sitting below her. She sank into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, as his fingers found purchase against her bare skin.

A new sense of urgency invaded the space between them and he pulled her forward, hands on either side of her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck loosely, letting his tongue between her lips with a sigh. He twisted a hand into her hair, holding her in place, while the other traced along her trembling ribs, sending jolts of electricity up her spine. 

Gwen sank down in the water more completely, kissing him again and then pulling away just far enough to trail her lips against his jaw, neck, ear. His fingertips bit hard into her lower back, a reminder of the strength held just beneath the surface. When she bit his earlobe, his fingers tightened, short nails nipping at her skin. 

He dragged her back to his mouth with one hand, the other on her hip, exploring in every sense of the word. His tongue moved slowly to taste her and then he pulled away, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth and then sucking his way down her neck. Her back arched in his hands and she could feel the curve of his smirk against her neck, the cocky bastard. 

She fought hard to keep any noises from crossing her lips, though he seemed to be trying just as hard to break her control. They both pulled away for a moment, mouths slightly parted, pupils dilated. It looked like he was going to say something but a crash downstairs made them both flinch, shattering the moment. 

Gwen groaned, leaning forward to press her forehead against his neck and shoulder as he chuckled, his fingertips light against the base of her spine. Liam had made it back and was rummaging through the kitchen for a snack, she had no doubt. Still, she relaxed against the witcher for a moment, biting her lip. 

“I’m glad you’re all right.” 

It was something that didn’t need to be said and something she had to get off her chest all at the same time. Geralt seemed surprised by the admission but his arms tightened, wrapping around her middle carefully and cementing her against his chest.

“You too.” He whispered the words behind her ear, nuzzling against the side of her head

It was too gentle, too innocent. Her heart hurt as he held her there a moment, pressing his face into her damp hair. Finally, he lifted her out of the tub and over to the bed. He gave her a towel and then grabbed another for himself before lighting a fire in the fireplace. She lied back against the bed, drying off with magic and using the towel halfheartedly to cover herself up before he returned, lying down on the opposite side of the bed. 

He slid under the sheets and then held them up for her to join him. She quickly shut the door and locked it with magic before slipping beneath the covers. She curled against him naturally, one arm draped over his abdomen as he kept a firm hand to her back. Her fingers splayed out against his chest and she silently tried to heal him without his knowledge. He flinched, grabbing her hand in his own and squeezing lightly.

“Relax.” He muttered into her hair, “For once.”

“You could still use a few more treatments.” She countered, trying and failing to pull her hand away

“And I’m looking forward to them.” She paused her struggles, “But not now. Just relax with me a while.”

She gave in, sighing, and he let go of her hand so that he could pull his fingers through her long hair. She kept herself preoccupied tracing over light scars, watching goosebumps rise or the tiny flinches he tried desperately to hide. 

“Why did you single me out at Rissberg?” She mumbled, “You could’ve had your pick of smarter, more experienced sorcerers.”

“Because you were beautiful.” He chuckled, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and she blushed hard against his chest 

She swallowed back whatever she was going to say and focused on his chest again. She brushed her fingertips against his ribs and then down farther, to the bone of his hip. He sighed, though it mixed with a light groan that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. 

“What does it feel like?” She asked after a moment, “The healing spell I mean.”

“Hmm…a little like this.” He motioned to her light fingers and closed his eyes again, “More deliberate. Feels…good.”

The last word was like an afterthought, like perhaps he was revealing too much. She grinned at the thought, at how often she had healed him and how it must have driven him made. These light touches, sometimes focused intently on one spot and other times spanning his entire body, all at the same time. 

There was a moment of weakness where she thought about reading his mind, it would have been easy, but she refrained. It had irritated her to no end when the mentors at the college read her mind, embarrassed her or rebuked her for a wrong answer she didn’t even utter. She vowed not to use the power lightly. 

And, although hesitant, she was beginning to believe Geralt was honest to a fault. 

She shifted in his arm slightly, peeling her palm back up his chest. She didn’t try healing magic, he was too stubborn for that, but she warmed her hand nonetheless and smoothed it across his belly. 

“Hmm.” He pressed his face into her hair again, sighing

She branched out further, spreading the magical warmth from her palm outward and covering more area. His chest flushed slightly but he didn’t say a word. She twisted the heat into rings, like her healing magic, and then forced it down, lower and lower around him. 

He jolted when she didn’t stop at his hips, his hand biting into her back. His hips raised ever so slightly in response, the muscles in his abs rippling so easily. He shifted under the blanket, a soft moan escaping through his teeth, muffled even more by her hair. A knot tied tight and hard in her stomach at the sound. 

She was tempted, oh so tempted. 

But Liam was downstairs and she wasn’t about to start something she couldn’t finish. Not yet. She pulled away reluctantly and his taut muscles relaxed again. He was quick to grab her hand, twisting to pin her arm to the bed and pressing his face into the crook of her neck. 

“Tease.” He groaned as the heat dissipated away 

“I’ll have to make it up to you.” She breathed, delicately dragging her fingertips along his back 

“I’ll hold you to that.” He replied, kissing her throat

“Sleep.” She whispered, weaving a light spell

“Not this again.” He muttered and she laughed, keeping him in place 

“Shh.”

His eyelids fluttered and then closed and he sighed, sinking deeper against her. When he was finally sleeping she stubbornly worked on healing him, creating more scars to trace over at a later date. She was finally started to calm down, her heartbeat slowing, when he full body shivered in his sleep and dragged himself closer. 

She froze as he hitched a leg over her own, pressing himself against her fully. Tiny wisps of silver still trickled from her hovering hand to his back and he made a satisfied noise deep in his throat as his arm snaked around her middle. 

She’d have thought he was faking sleep and teasing her had she not cast the spell herself. His hands bunched slightly against her and then he rocked slowly, once, twice, sighing out another quiet moan. 

Her heart was beating out of rhythm, sweat beading at the back of her neck. Whatever she had done, whatever temptation, this was worse. She slowly peeled herself away, sinking into the cold bath water to calm down. She covered herself in sweet smelling lotion and then, with a backwards glance at him, escaped to her own room next door.


End file.
